|A Ghostly Love Tale
Part I: My New House
I was really excited to purchase my first house at thirty-five years old. After working for the
better part of a decade I had both gotten to the point where I was making very good money and
had saved quite a bit. It helped tremendously that I had no children and, although dated, was
single. Outside of my childhood home, I had never lived in a house; since moving out on my own
I had only rented apartments. It had been a big dream of mine to have my own house with a
spacious yard; I would often go through home stores and dream of how I would have it all
spruced up. So, when I finally found the perfect house on a half-acre of land at a price I could
actually afford I was probably happier than I ever had been in my life.
Beauty, Texas is a fairly bustling suburb of Houston, and I had lived there all my life. I had seen
this house many times although I had never really paid too much attention to it. It was an older
house, quite a bit older than the houses around it. Its previous owner had been Mrs. McGillicutty,
Old Lady McGillicutty we used to call her, and she had lived in that house for as long as anyone
could remember. She had been a high school teacher in her younger days, but had retired long
before I got there myself, so it really was no surprise when she finally died of old age. Her
surviving brother had been looking to unload the house as quickly as possible, so when he
accepted my low offer I didnâ€™t think anything of it; it certainly never occurred to me that it
might be haunted.
The house has two floors, three bedrooms and a full bath upstairs, a half-bath downstairs, living
room, kitchen, dining room, and a study. That may seem like a lot, but in reality the house isnâ
€™t all that big. Like a lot of older houses, the rooms are somewhat small but comfortable
nonetheless, especially for a bachelor. Thereâ€™s also a pretty large storage room underneath
the stairs. The utilities are more than manageable as are the taxes, surprisingly enough, so there
was never even a momentary thought of getting a roommate. Iâ€™ve always really liked my
space and quiet. Truly the house was a dream for me.
The layout of the upstairs is important, I think, to this tale. Coming up the stairs leads into a
hallway. Turn right and thereâ€™s the door to the smallest of the three bedrooms. Turn left and
thereâ€™s a door for the second bedroom and then bathroom. At the end of the hall is the master
bedroom. I of course made the master my bedroom and I turned the second bedroom into a
guestroom for when friends or family might stay over. I wasnâ€™t sure what to do with the
smallest room; at first I considered making it my computer room, but the downstairs study was
better suited for that.
While the rest of the house was maintained, it seemed like Old Lady McGillicutty had let the
smallest bedroom go unattended. There was dust everywhere and cobwebs littered the corners.
The window was dirty for untold years of collected grim and the wallpaper, the original wallpaper
it seemed, was faded and peeling. I found that more than a little odd since the room actually has a
nice view through the small window overlooking the backyard and you can see the small creek
running through the woods behind my property. However, I couldnâ€™t help but notice how
dark and gloomy it seemed in there, although I chalked it up to it being dark and gloomy from
being left to rot. I did notice that it was unnaturally cold for a Houston summer, but I just
assumed with the position of the small window not enough sunlight could get into the room. I
figured a little dÃ©cor and a lot of paint and attention could fix the room right up. However, with
my funds and my interests diverted to other areas of the house, I ultimately had to put that room
at the bottom of my to-do list. It basically became a storage room for my unpacked moving boxes.
One thing I had in mind that I always wanted was a home bar. Iâ€™ve dreamed of having one for
as long as Iâ€™ve dreamed of owning a house. Now, donâ€™t take that to mean Iâ€™m an
alcoholic or anything, thereâ€™s just somethingâ€¦I donâ€™t know, adult about it, maybe?
Anyway, Iâ€™ve always had some bottles lying around in my apartments, but I never had the
room for an actual bar. Now with my own house and help from the Specâ€™s on Smith Street, I
thought I could turn the storage room under the stair into my bar. A few shelves to hold several
bottles of liquor and wine, a mini-fridge, cabinets for the glasses and mixing paraphernalia, and
dÃ©cor and itâ€™d be a sweet little bar. Perfect for entertaining.
I set to work building my dream.